If you think that New York City is the place for wild taxi rides, try going to Kolkata. After eating my last chicken tandoori of the trip, it was time to get a taxi back to my hotel. Even though it was nine-thirty at night, it felt like 100 degrees with 100 humidity, plus the streets were teeming with people. It seemed that everybody was also trying to get a yellow Ambassador cab of which there were few. After waiting patiently for around 20 minutes, and watching people pummel each other for the use of one of these iconic cars, I dove in to a taxi that stopped close to me while fending off five other prospective riders. I showed the driver the hotel's business card, which was five minutes away, hoping he would know where this busy main street is. I also told him the address in English, so he turned around and said 150 rupees and I said go, knowing that the fare was only 50. Off he went like a coked up Nascar racer. After about five minutes I realized he was going the wrong way, and gave him the card again. This time, he studied it intently, but it was upside down. He didn't understand me, and I didn't understand him but this was my last night, I just had a great meal and it was an another opportunity to really experience Kolkata. Eventually he realized he was lost and asked a traffic cop who was in a white uniform where to go. We finally made it back after running three red lights, almost knocking over a Tuk-tuk, and driving on the sidewalk. He screamed his price at me, 200 rupees. I happily gave him 100 for a ride that should have cost 50, jumped out of the taxi and smiled. On the way out, the driver yelled at me "ghar ka ladka", I thought he was asking me if I wanted to eat a latke, but I learned later on that he said I was "one of the family". I love Kolkata.
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